


That's The Way It Is

by Fighting4Fandoms



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha Charles Smith (Red Dead Redemption), Arthur Morgan Has Low Self-Esteem, Bisexual Arthur Morgan, Bisexual Sadie Adler, Charthur, Childbirth, Hurt Arthur Morgan, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Arthur Morgan, Protective Dutch Van Der Linde, Protective Hosea Matthews, Protective John Marston, Rape, Torture, mentioned death, vandermatthews
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:06:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 15,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28558803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fighting4Fandoms/pseuds/Fighting4Fandoms
Summary: After being captured and tortured by the O'Driscolls, Arthur is a changed man. Now, it's not that he's never been tortured or beaten up before. No, he has been more times than he cared to admit. No... they did something far worse to him and it's gonna take the whole gang to set things right.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan & Dutch van der Linde, Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith, Hosea Matthews & Arthur Morgan, Hosea Matthews/Dutch van der Linde, John Marston & Arthur Morgan, Sadie Adler & Arthur Morgan
Comments: 13
Kudos: 80





	1. Told You It Was A Trap

Arthur didn't exactly know how he escaped. 

Mostly by instinct, probably. It was like something was driving him forward, forcing him to keep moving. He stole that horse and rode out of that camp. He could recognize where he was by the road sign and the familiar stones, yeah, he'd been here before. Shit, he'd have to keep going. The world around him was blurred and muffled. 

He was hurt all over. He wanted to go back and kill them all but he would fail, he had no weapons on him, no protection. Maybe escaping was just luck and something really well timed. Fuck. 

"Take me home, boy." He whispered to the horse. 

He could feel himself grow more tired, his eyes grew heavy as he struggled to stay awake. Everything felt sore, he could remember what they did to him, the tears burned behind his eyeballs. He had never been so weak before. He was the one who everyone referred to as the "all brawn and no brains one." He did have brains, just never showed it much. Feeling sick to his stomach, Arthur wanted nothing more than to sleep. Sleep away everything he was feeling right then and there but that was impossible at that very moment. Having no idea how much time passed, Arthur felt the gentle raindrops patter against his bruised, bloodied face. 

Were the others looking for him? Did they even know what had happened? Dutch must have come looking. He must have. He wouldn't have just left Arthur to... die. Would he? Arthur had been seeing a change in Dutch, it was subtle but it was there. Lying more, brushing people away. And the paranoia. It didn't help that Micah kept whispering to him, Arthur noticed these things. He also noticed how Molly would stray further away from Dutch during the day, partly because Dutch told her to but also because... Well, Arthur didn't really know. Women were something that he often got confused by, then again he did get confused by most things. 

Not crime though, not this way of life. 

Maybe that was the problem. 

Maybe. 

"Good boy." Arthur patted the horse's mane as he felt himself being carried further away from that terrible place. 

* * *

"Who the hell-" Micah was abruptly cut off by a shriek erupting from Miss Grimshaw. 

"It's Arthur!" Susan ran in front of the group containing Dutch, Hosea, Charles and Mary-Beth. In the background, Abigail and Jack were being held back by a worried John. Javier, Lenny, Kieran and Sean were filtered behind, closely followed by Reverend Swanson, Molly and Bill whilst Uncle clambered up from where he had been lying by Pearson's tent. The cook was by his caravan with a bewildered look on his face. Tilly and Karen were standing by their tents, holding each other as they shook. 

Dutch and Hosea took control of the situation but they ran towards Arthur in a manic haze. Arthur half collapsed off the horse he had stolen from the O'Driscolls and his eyes fluttered as he fell forwards onto his knees. 

"Christ!" Hosea swore under his breath. 

Dutch caught Arthur before the man fell into the dirt, "Son, what happened? Who did this to ya?" 

"You poor boy," Susan bent down, "let's get you sorted." 

Arthur, even in his weakened state, shook his head. He looked up to Dutch and shuddered, "I- I told you it was a trap." 

"God, son, I'm sorry, I should have listened to you." 

"We can talk about all this later," Hosea helped Dutch to lift Arthur up off the ground while Susan clapped her hands together.

"Bring some of the ointments from Herr Straus' tent," she cried. "Hurry now." 

Karen ran over and grabbed a few bottles while Mary-Beth went to move some things out of the way in Arthur's tent to make more room. 

"Kieran," Hosea called for the former O'Driscoll, "Sort this horse out, will ya?" 

"Yes, sir." Kieran didn't hesitate to help out. 

John was confused by it all. 

He was about to head out to go and find Arthur with Charles and Javier but Dutch told them not to. 'He's probably hunting or something.'

He knew something was wrong when Arthur didn't come back with Dutch and Micah. John knew that Micah probably couldn't give two shits about Arthur but Dutch... he and Arthur were like sons to him and Hosea. Those two men practically raised them.

"Did you see the blood?" Abigail whispered to him so that Jack didn't hear her, poor thing was so confused and overwhelmed by it all. 

John grumbled under his breath, "I knew I should have gone." 

"Don't blame yourself." Abigail shook her head with a sad smile, "He probably just needs rest and then he'll be as right as rain." 

"I hope you're right." 

Charles, meanwhile, stood away from Arthur's tent with his eye on Micah on the other side of the camp. Micah had sat himself down at the table where the gang play dominos or cards. There was something off about him. More than usual that it. Yes, he hadn't been with the gang for exactly long but he always had been good at spotting trouble from a mile away and this guy?   
  


He was trouble. No doubt about it. 

Arthur had pretty much fell unconscious by the time he had been placed down on his cot. He became deaf and blind to the world and fell into a somewhat crazed, drunken dream. Not that he was drunk of course, he couldn't remember the last time he had a proper drink. It was probably back in Valentine with Lenny. Damn, that was a good night. That kid? He was alright. Arthur quite liked his company which was unusual. There was a reason that he could spend days or even weeks alone in the wilderness with just his steed as a companion. 

Arthur had always been like that. 

Even as a kid, he would be off on his own depending on where the gang had situated themselves. He didn't mind being in a tent. That's all he had known. This gang wasn't just a gang to him, it was his family. There were some members he got on with more than others and some that downright irritated him to sin. Micah. Damn fool. Arthur didn't see why Dutch put up with his bullshit, especially after Blackwater and especially after that crap he pulled in Strawberry. Arthur didn't mind killing. No, he had killed more people than he can remember for as long as he could remember. It was just... He didn't know. There was something terribly wrong about Strawberry. There was no reason to kill all of those people. It was Micah's own hot headedness that got him landed in that jail in the first place. He almost got Lenny killed too. Not that Micah would care, racist fool. Fool was an understatement though for what Micah was. 

Arthur couldn't find the right word to describe him. Was there even a word? Probably not. 

"How is he?" Hosea asked Susan when she finished cleaning the blood off him, as much as she could anyway. 

She let out a sigh and pulled up the chair next to Arthur's cot, wiping the man's sweaty brow. "Poor thing's been through the mill." 

"And it was the O'Driscoll's that did it to him?" Dutch shook his head. "I should've listened to him."  
"Yes," Hosea had an angry look on his face, "why didn't you? Why did you think Colm O'Driscoll of all people would want a parlay with ya?" 

"..." Dutch couldn't find the words. 

"There's something else too." Susan was shaky in the way she spoke. "I cleaned up his shoulder as best I could, might need some of that salve you can make Hosea, but..." 

Her voice trailed off. 

"But what, Miss Grimshaw?" Dutch tilted his head, fearing for her delay. She usually had what to say on her tongue days before she needed to say it. 

"I think they... raped him." She looked away. 

"How can you tell?" Hosea asked, no longer angry at Dutch but angry with the O'Driscolls. 

"The marks on him, for one." Susan indicated to the discarded bandages after, "and the blood." 

"When will he wake up?" asked Dutch. 

"Impossible to say." 

"Damn O'Driscolls!" Dutch swore under his breath, "We need a plan." 

"What should we do-"  
"I think," Susan interrupted, "we should all get some rest and plan whatever shenanigans you're gonna pull on those Irish pricks in the morning. Arthur needs rest. And peace. Neither of which he's gonna get if you two fret all night like headless chickens." 

"You're right," Hosea wafted his hand, "Get one of the girls to stay with him for tonight." 

"Mary-Beth!" Susan yelled, "Get your hide over here!" 

The young woman floated over from the campfire and did as Miss Grimshaw asked as Hosea and Dutch wandered back out of Arthur's tent with annoyed, enraged and despondent expressions on their faces. 

"Our poor boy." Dutch shook his head. "He was right, it was a trap." 

"You know, you should give him more credit. He's not some brainless oaf." Hosea pointed out. "He's quite intelligent when he actually uses his brain rather than brawn." 

"Heh." Dutch laughed breathlessly, "What should we tell the others?" 

"Nothing yet, they don't need to know all the ins and outs. As far as they know, Arthur escaped imprisonment from the O'Driscolls. If Arthur wants people to know, which I highly doubt, he can do on his own accord." 

"Right you are," Dutch yawned, "right, get some rest. We can deal with this in the morning." 


	2. Shadows in the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an eerie silence falling on the camp and no one can really sleep because of the situation that has come upon them.

The fire crackled in the middle of the camp, the men in the camp had gathered around whilst the women and Jack were filtered besides Arthur's tent as the man slept on in a fitful sleep. 

Dutch was standing up near a tree with a cigar in his hand, he could hear the men mumble and grumble amongst each other but he wasn't in the mood to talk. Every so often, his eyes would dart over to Arthur and he'd have to close his eyes to sigh in worry and frustration. Frustration at himself, why did he think that Colm O'Driscoll would want a parlay. Damn Micah, he knew deep down that he shouldn't have listened to him. 

Hosea, bless him, left the others to their rambling and walked over to Dutch and patted his shoulder, "He's a strong boy, no, a strong man. He'll be fine." 

"I suppose you're right." 

"You're guilty." Hosea noticed, "You should be but Arthur doesn't hold grudges. We didn't raise him that way." 

"Do you remember when he got bit by that wolf?" Dutch reminisced, "He pushed me out of the way. It should have been me but he pushed me out of the way."

"You're his father, Dutch. Maybe not by blood but you- we- always taught him that family doesn't end in blood." 

"You're his father too," Dutch smirked, "we both had a hand in raising him. Do me a favour and check up on him. I'll talk to these fools." 

"Alright," Hosea nodded his head and started the walk over to the furthest end of the camp where Arthur's tent was situated. He could see Tilly, Karen and Mary-Beth fussing over him whilst Abigail was sitting on a chair with a sleeping Jack in her arms and Susan was cleaning the cloths in the bucket she had used on Arthur. 

"Shouldn't you throw those away?" Karen asked innocently. 

"You think it's easy to get a hold of these when you're on the road?" 

"Sorry I asked." 

"How is he?" Hosea asked, looking at the paleness on Arthur's face. 

"Well, he ain't got a fever." Susan cleared up, "he lost a fair bit of blood though so he'll probably be asleep til the afternoon tomorrow." 

Abigail whispered, "Has Dutch said anything about what we're going to do about it?" 

"Not yet." Hosea shook his head. "He will though. He ain't just gonna let something like this slide."

"Poor Arthur," Mary-Beth quietly hushed. 

"Why don't you girls go and get some sleep?" Hosea suggested to the group. "I can keep an eye on him." 

"You sure?" Susan inquired. 

"Course I am." Hosea smiled. "Now, off you go, you've helped all you can for now." 

* * *

The following morning there was an eerie silence over the camp. The only noise came from Pearson as he chopped up the fresh meat Charles had hunted. 

"All I'm saying is that I can be more useful if you make me!" Sadie struggled to keep up with Dutch's strides as he made his way around the camp. "I can do more than just sew, you know!" 

"I know that Mrs Adler," Dutch sighed, "but at the moment I have bigger problems." 

"Yes which I am more than capable with helping you." 

"I'll talk to you later about it," Dutch mumbled. 

Sadie groaned in annoyance, ignoring the glare that Susan was shooting in her direction. She halted her steps and watched Dutch like a hawk. It wasn't like she didn't trust him but she didn't understand why he didn't trust Arthur's words. He trusted Micah's more than the man he raised. It smelt fishy. 

Sadie wasn't entirely sure what happened the night before and no one seemed to want to fill her in on the more intricate details. Another thing that was irritating her. She didn't choose to be a part of this gang, she had that thrust upon her but damn it to darnation if they didn't want her. She watched her husband die in front of her but that didn't break her spirit. 

She could hear the other women mumble behind her back, turning her head to the side, she could see out of the corner of her eye the look on Arthur's face. He was a deathly shade of white. Something she didn't like. 

"Mrs Adler," she heard a cough behind her, "how are you?" 

Sadie's head snapped back around to see Hosea standing in front of her. "Hello there, Mr Matthews." 

"You settling in alright now?" 

She nodded, "Very much so, mister." 

"Listen, could you do me a favour?" 

"Depends." 

"I need someone to keep an eye on Arthur for me," He whispered. "Me and the men have to go and do some surveillance and I notice that you and Miss Grimshaw don't seem to get along an awful lot. "

"She's the one with the problem." Sadie accused. "But, I can help you out. I can watch him for ya." 

There was a warm look on the old man's face and it reminded her of the smile her father had on his own face when he used to teach her about shooting and hunting. Her mother had a complicated relationship with women and learning those types of things. She never understood why it was essential. They lived in the middle of nowhere where it was quite easy for raiders to well... raid them. Sadie was thankful for the things he had taught her when she went to live with her husband in the mountains where there was all manner of beast. Both animal and man. It didn't matter though when the O'Driscolls came. Sadie often thought about what would've happened if Dutch, Micah and Arthur hadn't come. She could have been killed or worse. 

Shoving her hands into the folds of her skirt, Sadie walked over to Arthur's tent. He was alone, just asleep in his cot. Hosea or Susan must have told the girls to rest or get busy or something else. Sadie didn't really care. She didn't mind their company but they always had to remind her about Susan's looks. The kind she'd shoot at her when she thought Sadie wasn't looking. Sadie was always looking. She had to.

Sadie noticed the dried up blood around Arthur lips and eyes that Susan hadn't quite cleaned up. There was probably more blood under the blanket. She felt nauseous at the thought. 

Sadie pulled up the chair and sat herself down. There was beads of sweat gathered on Arthur's forehead, she grabbed the cloth that was laid on the table next to the flower that Arthur kept in the jar. She didn't know why he had that because she never thought to ask. She liked Arthur. Not in the way she loved her husband but he was so different to the other men in the camp. Most of them had their heads up their asses. Not Arthur. Sadie had noticed, since she had been with the gang, how they always seemed to refer to Arthur as "the muscle". Sure he had muscles but there was so much more to him than that. She had seen how he'd write in that leather-bound journal, she'd even seen the pictures he had drawn on occasion when he'd be standing by a vacant tree or warming himself up by the campfire. 

Arthur shuffled in his sleep and a cough broke through his throat. It was a dry cough, the kind that ripped the skin. 

"Here's some water," Sadie whispered, helping to bring the cup to his mouth. 

"Thank you." Arthur's voice was quiet. Hoarse. Most likely from screaming in pain. She couldn't imagine what those bastards had done to him. She was lucky in that sense when the O'Driscolls came to her homestead. They were shot down before they did anything too serious to her, even though it was already too late for her husband. 

"How are ya feelin'?" 

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment. He put his head back down on the pillow and rubbed his head. "Sore." 

"Do you need me to fetch someone?" 

He shook his head, "I'll be alright in a minute." 

They sat in silence for a moment, the sound of birds being the only thing to be heard. It was almost peaceful. It was awkward to be completely peaceful. Sadie wanted to ask Arthur what had happened but it wasn't the right time. Besides, she knew that he would talk about it when he was ready. She could wait. 

"I need to go." 

"Go where?" 

He shrugged, "A boat, horse? Something." 

"There's that boat down by the jetty?" Sadie suggested, "Shall we go out on it? You know, if you want the company?" 

"That'd be nice." 

"Let me help you up." Sadie helped Arthur up to his feet, Arthur hissed at the pain in his shoulder. 

"Should we ask if it's okay for you to be up and about?" 

"You can ask if you want but I'm not 16 anymore," Arthur chuckled. 

Sadie was surprised that he was joking and laughing. Then again, it was probably Arthur attempting to distract himself. Arthur picked up his hat from the table and whistled for Sadie to follow him through the back of the tent, hoping that Miss Grimshaw didn't catch them leaving the camp to go out on the lake when he should have been resting instead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just on Chapter 6 in the actual game and damn... so far there's been so many moments where I've actually gasped and not many games have done that so... Nice one Rockstar!


	3. Lakeside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Sadie go out on the boat and relax on the shore of the small piece of land just a little off the camp.

Before the run-in with the O'Driscolls, Sadie Adler had a somewhat easy life. She had come from a nice family and had married a nice, respectable man. She knew how to be a lady but she preferred wearing trousers, shooting, hunting. That kind of thing. She didn't have to worry about people spreading nonsense about her because she lived out in the middle of nowhere with her husband. It was nice. Easy. However, she had to admit to herself that she liked this life too. Yes, living with and as outlaws was no easy feat but there was a sense of freedom that her old life couldn't give her. Obviously she had to help out in someway but she was free. She could live as she wanted. There was only Grimshaw to tell her otherwise and honestly, Sadie didn't really listen to what she had to say most of the time. 

"You know, she does care deep down about us." Arthur told her. "She just has a funny way of showing it." 

"Yeah, you're telling me." Sadie laughed to herself as she rowed the boat. She had to put her foot down with Arthur when he was about to before they set off. 

"Thanks for this, Mrs Adler." Arthur spoke quietly. 

"I told you to call me Sadie, Arthur." 

"Yeah, I know." Arthur smirked. "I needed a break." 

"You didn't sleep well." 

Arthur shook his head, agreeing with her. He slept but it wasn't an easy sleep. His dreams had been plagued by the memories of the other night. The night he escaped from the shack. He still didn't know how long he had been there and he didn't have a mind to ask anyone. He'd rather not know. He felt exhausted and sore. His shoulder was killing him. One of the girls had bandaged it up but he didn't dare move it around to much in case he made it bleed again. He didn't do a bad job of cauterizing the wound but he didn't quite do the whole job. He knew the basics of healing. Hosea had taught him and John when they were kids. It was something they had to learn. Anyone in a gang had to know the basics in case they were hurt and couldn't get help from anyone. It also saved a lot of time if you could do it yourself. 

"Hey, there's a strip of land here." 

"I'll pull up." Sadie rowed to the shore, she jumped out and pulled the boat up to rest against the dirt. She offered a hand to Arthur to assist him out of the boat. 

"You hear that?" Arthur asked, looking around. 

Sadie listened out but couldn't hear anything. "I don't hear nothin'." 

"Exactly." Arthur approached the lone tree and took himself down to rest against the bark. Sadie looked around for a moment, taking her hat off her head. "You know, it's nice out here. You picked a good spot." 

"And Micah wanted us to go and pitch up in a dried up creek." 

"Well, I have been told he's an idiot." Sadie smiled softly as Arthur chuckled to himself. "You don't have to tell me about what happened-"  
"I will." Arthur nodded. "I will, just not yet. I can tell you. I don't think I can tell anyone else right now." 

"That's alright, Arthur." Sadie sat herself down beside him, careful to give him some space. "Do you mind if I ask you something?" 

"Go ahead." 

"How long have you been with this lot?" 

"I was 14 or something when Dutch and Hosea took me under their wings." Arthur smiled fondly at the memories he had of them. "Over 20 years I've been running with them. They taught me pretty much everything. Reading, writing, shooting. Everything."

Arthur could remember when they found him. He was just wandering around. He was 11 when he saw his father die, even younger when his mother did. He didn't remember much of his mother, he just knew he loved her very much. John was 12 when he met him, Dutch saved his ass from being hanged. The whole thing was mad but he became something of a big brother. He didn't mind. He liked it. It was nice having a brother. There was about a decade between the two of them but that just made it easier for Arthur to have some authority over John. 

"But the thing that they did to me..." Sadie could hear the hitch in Arthur's voice when he spoke but she didn't look to him. She didn't think about looking at him because she didn't need to. Something people don't always realize about him was that Arthur was rather articulate, more on paper than in life but articulate all the same. 

"It's happened before." Arthur sighed heavily, leaning further into the tree, "No one knows. Not even Dutch or Hosea. The people that did it... I went back the next day and killed them. I didn't milk it. I just shot them. I snuck into their camp, been following them since the evening. I shot them in the head and turned the other way. I didn't take anything. I told the gang I was working on a bounty. I wasn't."

"When you say it's happened before-"

"I don't talk about it." Arthur didn't need to cry. He wasn't upset. Not even a little bit. He was frustrated with himself. How did he let it happen again? 

"You're not weak, Arthur." Sadie knew this. She hoped others did too. "Why are you telling me this? We barely know each other." 

"Because you know what it's like to be broken down to your weakest self." Arthur looked to the horizon. "There are a lot of things in life I don't understand but I'd like to think that we understand each other."

"I think we do." 

* * *

Later that evening, Arthur was sitting by the edge of the lake, alone this time. He was looking into the horizon, letting the breeze brush through his hair. His ocean eyes were glimmering in the setting sun but his mind was somewhere else. Behind him he could hear the gang talk amongst themselves as Pearson prepared the stew, Arthur had noticed how Charles had gone hunting. He found himself looking over at the man every so often more often than he wanted to admit. 

"Hi Uncle Arthur!" Jack's cheery voice appeared beside him. 

Arthur jumped slightly, he didn't even hear the lad come close to him. He smiled and ruffled the boy's head as Jack came and sat beside him. 

"Hey, Jackie. You behavin'?"

"Of course!" Jack tilted his head. "Are you okay, Uncle Arthur? You look sad." 

Children often had a keen eye on people and when they seemed down, at least that's what Arthur concluded. He hadn't been around many children except for Jack and... and Isaac. He missed that boy. He was good. Young. He didn't deserve what happened. Neither did Eliza. Two more things that he didn't like to talk about. Arthur often wondered what might have happened if he had been there for them. More than he had been. He should have been there. They wouldn't have died if he had been there. 

"Nah, I'm fine, what about you?" He asked. "You been fishing?" 

"I tried but it's hard." 

Arthur put his arm around the small boy, "Yeah, I struggled at first. I'm not great at it still but practice makes better." 

"Okay." Jack giggled. "Can you show me again?" 

"Sure. Tomorrow maybe unless Dutch makes me run an errand for him." 

"Hey, it's Dutch now!" 

Arthur looked over his shoulder to see his father figure walking over to him and Jack. 

"Jack, my boy, you're mother's looking for you." Dutch told him. Arthur doubted that was the case. 

"Why don't you run along now?" 

"Okay." Jack clambered to his feet and ran off in the direction Dutch had approached from. 

"Shouldn't you be resting?" Dutch asked. 

Arthur didn't answer, he turned his head back to the sun. He didn't know what Dutch wanted to hear from him. He didn't know what he was supposed to say himself. What words should be coming out of his mouth? 

"Son, I'm just worried." 

"I know." 

"This is my fault." Dutch shook his head, taking a seat beside Arthur on the grassy bank. "I should have listened to you." 

"Instead you listened to Micah." Arthur mumbled to himself. 

"I should probably stop doing that as much." 

"Why did you think that Colm would want peace between you two?" Arthur didn't know why Dutch would have even contemplated a truce. It made no damn sense. 

"I suppose I wanted things to be easier."

"That's all I ever want for the gang, Dutch." Arthur whispered. "I promise it is." 

"I know that, son, you never question my judgement. Blackwater was a whole mess but you got us here so-"

"I can't stop seeing what happened." 

"When-"

"Yeah." Arthur sighed. "I try not to. I do. I know I'm stronger than that." 

"Son, there is no weakness in showing pain." Dutch put a hand on Arthur's shoulder. "This pain is temporary. It'll pass and then you can be built back up." 

A single tear broke through Arthur's close eyelid and slithered down his cheek, leaving a silver trail behind it. Dutch noticed but simply used his thumb to wipe it away. 

"I'll kill that bastard if it's the last thing I do." 


	4. Hunting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles asks Arthur if he wants to tag along while he hunts.

Some members of the gang, the more eagle eyed of the bunch, noticed how Arthur enjoyed Charles' company. Charles had been running with them for just 6 months and already he had made an impact. He didn't shy away from work, whether it was criminal or supplying Pearson with meat for the daily stew. Charles couldn't compare the amount of work he had done to the amount that Arthur had done over the 20 years he had been with them. 

Charles was good at observation. Always had been. He had overheard what gang members said about Arthur, the majority couldn't say a bad word about him. Others moaned a little about him but there was one member who was a thorn in everyone's side. Micah Bell. Charles couldn't quite understand how Micah was still a "crucial" member of the gang. Whenever he helped something else went wrong. Like Blackwater. He's the main reason they had to flee to Colter in the first place. Yet, Dutch still has the same amount of faith in him than he had in him before Blackwater. It was mind-numbing. Despite that, he was good with a gun but that was about it. Charles hardly ever saw Micah donate or contribute to the lockbox outside Dutch's tent. When he did it was in meagre amounts, he even saw Micah give in an old piece of rat skin. 

It was a couple of weeks after Arthur had collapsed in front of the camp, Charles had watched him from afar. He was spending more time alone and he spent time alone more often than anyone else. The early morning sun shone above the camp as Charles brushed his horse, getting ready to do some morning hunting. There had been deer running through the clearing earlier. 

"Hey Arthur," Charles greeted as the man limped passed him. "Do you wanna tag along?" 

"Sure." Arthur nodded, a small smile gracing his face. "It'd be nice to actually go out on the horse." 

"He's a new one, what's his name?" 

"Duke." Arthur patted his horse's long, black mane. "You're a good boy." 

"You still have that bow I gave you, right?" 

"Huh huh." Arthur gestured to the horse's saddle where he had stowed the bow away. "It's come in handy." 

"Great," Charles smirked, "I'll let you take the lead." 

* * *

There were upsides and downsides to living on the road. 

There's a sense of freedom. You're not tied down, you get fed of somewhere you can just up and move to somewhere new. There's endless amounts of fresh air and you can sleep under the stars. 

But... 

You can't have a normal life. Especially if you're an outlaw. You're always on the road. You're always moving. You're not tied down. You could just float away. Arthur could have had a family with a wife and a son. He almost had that. Twice. Life just didn't want that for him though. When he was young, it didn't bother him as much but the other night, what transpired, it struck something in him. He often wondered what kind of person his son could have grown up to be. He wouldn't have wanted this life for his son. He didn't deserve it. He deserved a roof over his head and a place to call his home. 

Dutch told him once that home was where the people were. Hosea told him that you could call any place home as long as you felt like you belonged. 

Arthur and Charles rode for about 20 minutes to get to the Heartlands, it was a pretty good hunting ground. Bison, deer, boar. There was all sorts. 

Charles climbed off the back of his horse, his long hair blowing in the wind. Arthur blushed slightly, he didn't know what came over him. Sure, he had noticed Charles before but... What was this new feeling? 

Shaking his head, Arthur watched as the younger man knelt to the ground, looking at the faded tracks in the dirt. 

"What do you think Pearson would appreciate today?" Charles asked. 

"Deer." Arthur nodded, he pointed behind Charles, "there's some headed that way." 

"Good eye." 

"What can I say? I had a good teacher." 

Charles had a warm look on his face and he felt this little flutter in his chest as the wind blew across Arthur's face, the sun reflected in Arthur's beautiful eyes. Beautiful? Did he just describe Arthur Morgan's eyes beautiful? The Arthur Morgan? As beautiful? The longer he looked at Arthur, more specifically his eyes, the more he noticed that they weren't blue. There was a tinge of green to them. They were like the ocean. 

Chares looked to Arthur and noticed that his skin had gone quite pale. 

"Hey, are you alright?" 

Arthur nodded, "Fine, don't worry yourself." 

Charles was worried. Arthur hadn't completely healed from his attack, he bit his lip. "We only need the one deer. I'll grab it." 

It was quick work, a single arrow to the head and the doe was on the plains floor. Charles carried it over his shoulder then stowed it on his horse. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, he felt sick all of a sudden. He wasn't too sure if it was from something he ate. Or something he hadn't ate? He tended to forget to eat when he was on the road but he had been well fed while at camp, Pearson and Susan made sure to that. Then he felt something rise through his throat, he groaned. He managed to slide of Duke's back before emptying his guts in the nearby bush, he fell to his knees and hands as the hot liquid burned his throat. He could feel Charles' steady hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles into his skin. 

A few moments passed and after he finished heaving, he spat on the ground and shakily stood back to his feet. 

"Let's get you back to camp."

"I'll be fine." 

"Let's get you back to camp." Charles repeated in a sterner voice. 

Arthur knew better than to argue. 


	5. Damn Fool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Micah is an idiot.  
> Enough said

It was no surprise to anyone that Arthur did not like Micah. Micah was a loose cannon that Dutch never wanted to defuse but it seemed that Arthur wasn't the only one that was sick and tired of Micah's antics. Sean and Javier in particular were becoming gradually more irritated with the racist remarks, Lenny hadn't quite recovered mentally from Strawberry. Poor kid. Micah could have gotten him killed and Micah would not have batted an eyelid. 

Charles didn't suffer as much as they did when it came to Micah's tongue and it was only because Charles never stuck near the man for him to be shouted at. 

Charles and Arthur were strolling back into camp, holding the reins of the horse, and walking along beside them. Riding back on horseback would have aggravated Arthur's stomach further. 

"This happened yesterday, and the day before that." Arthur finally told him as they edged closer to the camp. 

Charles looked to him and saw the small beads of sweat that were gathering on Arthur's forehead. "And you're fine after?" 

"Yeah," Arthur mumbled, "it's just happened in the mornings." 

"Hmm." 

"What?" 

Charles shrugged, "I don't know. It's just a little strange." 

Arthur supposed that Charles was right to some extent. He hadn't suffered from many illnesses in his life, just when he was younger but that wasn't uncommon for a child. Especially one who lived on the streets without a warm home to reside in. 

What Arthur hadn't noticed was that as they walked back into camp, Dutch was walking towards him, rubbing his hands together with a smirk on his face. 

"Arthur, son, need your help with something if you have the time." 

Charles was going to open his mouth to tell Dutch what had happened earlier but Arthur should be the one to tell him. 

"Ah, good hunt, you two." Dutch patted Charles' shoulder, "You take that over to Pearson, Charles, while I talk to Arthur here."

* * *

Arthur had never managed to not keep up with Dutch before but for some reason, whether it was from being sick earlier that morning or not, he felt breathless. Even a little lightheaded. It wasn't like him at all. He supposed it was all those years on the road that made him slightly immune to the common illnesses. He couldn't even remember the last time he had been sick like this. Getting drunk with Lenny that time doesn't count. He was drunk, not ill. God, he was so drunk that night. He couldn't quite remember everything that happened that night but he remembered that everything sort of blended together into one long picture with vomit on the end of it. 

He followed Dutch to the jetty by the lakeside. His mentor stood there at the edge for a moment before letting out a sigh. Arthur stood to the side, just a couple of steps behind him. 

"You know," Dutch chuckled to himself, "I was thinking about your first bank robbery just the other day." 

"Oh?" Arthur furrowed his eyebrows, "Reminicing were ya?" 

"Something like that, son." 

Arthur kept the clipping of the newspaper describing the event next to his cot in his tent, it was a strange thing to be proud of nonetheless he was. It was when he proved to Dutch and Hosea that he wasn't just some kid they plucked from the streets, he could handle this life and he had done ever since that day. It was just the first in a long line of robberies. 

"Listen, I've been thinking about something." 

"What?" 

"Micah." 

Arthur took a step forward, just to see the grave look in Dutch's eyes, the water of the lake reflecting in them. He didn't know what he was supposed to expect with what Dutch was going to tell him but Arthur had never really liked Micah, not even when he first met him. He always had that look in his eyes, he was unhinged. Greedy too. Arthur didn't mind the money from what they did but Micah always needed to push the gang further into trouble just for the sake of a few extra coins. 

It seemed that Dutch had finally realized it. 

"What about him?" 

"He's gone and caused more trouble that we didn't need." 

Arthur tilted his head to the side in confusion. 

"He and Bill went into town yesterday, Micah started a bar fight. Killed a man. An innocent man who had a wife, kids. The lot."

"This is Strawberry all over again." 

"It's Blackwater all over again, Arthur." Dutch groaned in annoyance to himself. "I'm all for keeping the peace in camp but it seems that... Micah's membership is about to expire. We can't keep having trouble. Pinkertons or O'Driscolls. What do you think we should do?" 

Arthur had a few ideas but none that Dutch would want to follow through with. 

"We should have left him to hang in Strawberry." 

"Well, he's in the prison at Rhodes right now..." Dutch shook his head. "Almost feels wrong to let him hang." 

"Hold up-"  
"I said "almost", Arthur." Dutch smirked. "We could leave it a couple days, then consult with the others. There are gonna be some that won't want it to happen." 

"Then why ask?" Arthur asked, "You're the one with the final say, just do it and get it over with." 

"Over the past few weeks, I've been listening to the idiot's stupid ideas. First in Blackwater, where he doesn't get any blame, then with the O'Driscolls-"

"You know what?" Arthur interrupted, "I don't wanna here about what happened, damn it. You and Micah had it fine, you got away. I didn't. Were you even gonna look for me, Dutch? Would you have left me to rot too?" 

"Arthur," Dutch's eyes turned to the side so that they were looking each other in the eye, "You and Micah are no the same to me. One's a complete and utter shitpile. The other is my son. I can't ask you to not think that but we wouldn't have left you there with the bastards."

Arthur wasn't going to cry, he hadn't cried since- Well it doesn't matter. He felt something inside, was it remorse? Worry? Sadness? He couldn't tell. All he was thinking about, for some reason, was Micah. He hated the man. He wasn't even a man. He was a damn oily rat. A snake in the damn grass. 

Honestly, Arthur wouldn't miss him but he would miss seeing him swing. 


	6. Silver Creek

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was Sadie who noticed first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a week or so, had some family buisness to sort. Thanks for being so patient though! Anyhoo, here's chapter 6! :)

It was Sadie who noticed first. 

The morning had started fairly normally and Arthur was finally recovered from the ordeal with the O'Driscolls, at least physically. The mental scars would never fully go away. Just a few more to the pile. Arthur didn't even feel too bad, his stomach still rolled around in the morning but thankfully no one really noticed... well, except for one person. Maybe two. 

Arthur left his tent and approached his shaving station, he needed a clean shaven face. It had been a while since he shaved. He hadn't really been in the mood to. His hair had grown out a little bit but that was more manageable than the beard. 

"Morning Arthur," Mary-Beth smiled at him, she was carrying a book around with her again. He had to admire her positive attitude. He remembered when Hosea welcomed her to the gang, she had been caught pick-pocketing. She was still good at it but it was risky. Hell, anything was risky these days. He said "hello" back to her and finished wiping up his face, the smell of the shaving foam making him gag. Most things had been making him sick lately. Even the smell of Pearson's stew and Arthur had to confess that the stew was always nice tasting. Something was amiss but Arthur was also oblivious to him. 

From the dominos table, Sadie watched Arthur with an eye of an eagle, "Something's different 'bout him." 

Hosea who had been smoking on the opposite side of the table hummed under his throat, "Well, he's gonna be different now, isn't he?"

"What you talkin' about, old man?" 

Hosea knew that Sadie wasn't calling him that in a derogative way like Micah did but he also knew something she didn't. Or, at least, he had a hunch about it. He wasn't so old that he couldn't see when something was wrong with Arthur. The man was like a son to him, had been since he and Dutch picked him off the streets. He had taught Arthur to read, Dutch too. The pair of them raised him and John like their own sons. Hosea would always treat Arthur differently than other members of the gang but what could you expect from him? 

"If Arthur goes anyway today... keep an eye on him for me." 

Sadie, without question, nodded. Not everyone had been so welcoming to her except for Hosea and Arthur. Sure, the younger ones didn't mind her presence but Grimshaw wasn't pleased. At least she had found a friend in Abigail. 

"Morning Hosea, Sadie." Said the woman herself as she looked around the camp for Jack. "I don't suppose you've seen John anywhere, have you?" 

"Last time I saw him he was chopping wood." Hosea gestured over to the woodpile. 

Abigail snorted, "Wow, he's actually doing something around here." 

Sadie turned back to Hosea, "You know what's wrong?" 

He shrugged, "If I'm right, he'll need a friend. That idiot doesn't have many." 

Hosea could remember the day he and Dutch found Arthur lurching around on the streets, he was a child still. Severely underweight, Hosea noticed. Dutch however noticed that the lad had a keen eye and had noticed that they were being followed by an police officer. 

Hosea had always been close with Arthur, John too. Those two were like his sons, closest things to sons as he could ever get. Ever since Arthur had come back into camp half-dead, Hosea had kept an eye on him. More than usual. He had noticed how Arthur would throw his guts up every morning like clockwork but he'd be fine for the rest of the day but he would look nauseous at the smell of certain things, like Pearson's stew or the perfume Molly wore. Despite Hosea having a really good hunch about Arthur's... situation, Dutch had noticed something was amiss too. 

From his tent, Dutch watched Hosea talk to Sadie with a cigar in his mouth, he furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion. 

"Something wrong?" 

Dutch focused on Hosea as the man approached him from the other side of the camp. 

"You look bewildered." 

"I am bewildered." Dutch confessed to his partner, "What were you and Mrs Adler discussing?" 

Hosea shrugged, "Just things." 

"What kind?" Dutch insisted, "You know I'll just keep asking you until you say it." 

"Fine." Hosea sighed. "Have you noticed anything with Arthur lately?"

Dutch shook his head, "Only that he still sways on his fate. Those bastards did a number on him." 

"Nothing else?" 

"What the heck are you getting at Hosea?" 

Hosea simply shook his head, there were times when he and Dutch could be in sync but other times Dutch was so much slower than him. He needed to turn up this for a moment, just to get an idea planted into Dutch's thick skull. 

"Alright, Dutch, do you remember that creek a little ways passed the hills, just before the mountains? We hunted that elk and pitched a tent up-"

"Woah woah woah!" Dutch laughed out loud, "Why you talkin' about for?" 

"What we did there- Well, I think _something_ is different about Arthur." 

Dutch looked at Hosea for a moment before it clicked inside his head, "You think-?"

Hosea nodded, he sat himself down on the chair inside Dutch's tent, "You remember last time?" 

"Heh," Dutch scratched the back of his head, "I do. We better have a word with him." 

Hosea put a hand on Dutch's arm, "I wouldn't just yet, I don't think he knows himself yet." 

"What made you think of the creek?"

Hosea smiled warmly, letting the breeze blow through his hair, "I don't know really, what was the name of it again? Shiver Creek?" 

"Silver Creek." Dutch corrected. "Would have been more accurate to call it Shiver though, you were freezing." 

"Yeah but you kept me warm, didn't ya?" 

It was a nice day, the sun was shining, the wind wasn't too feisty and everyone was lazing around the camp. Javier was gently plucking the strings of his guitar by the campfire, Pearson was preparing his stew, the girls were talking and laughing amongst themselves with Susan doing embroidery beside them on a log. Jack was playing with Abigail. Sean, Lenny and Uncle were singing along with the music of Javier's guitar. Bill was off to the side. Sadie was hiding behind a tree with an eagle eye on Arthur who was brushing his horse. Charles was walking towards him, tipping his head to Kieran who was tending to the other horses. 

"Arthur." Charles greeted. 

"Damn, Charles," Arthur gasped, "Didn't see you there." 

"Sorry for startling you," Charles smiled at him, "how are you feeling?" 

"Much better," Arthur patted his horse's head, "hey, do you wanna go for a ride?" 

"Are you even allowed to leave the camp?" 

"Probably not." Arthur chuckled, "We don't have to go far." 

"I don't think you're gonna be stopped from going but I know that you won't be alone if I come along." 

"That's a fancy way of saying "yes", Charles." 

Charles couldn't help but notice that Arthur always seemed a bit calmer when he was around him. He could say the same about Arthur, not that he'd give the others the satisfaction of knowing it. 

Unbeknownst to the pair of them, Dutch and Hosea were watching from Dutch's tent with smirks on their faces. 

"Well, Hosea, Arthur may not know about you-know-what but I wouldn't be surprised if they take a trip to a creek themselves... if you understand my meaning." 

"Oh I understand your meaning, Dutch. Don't you worry about that." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so Sadie didn't figure it out first... oops lol


	7. Bittersweet Melodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Arthur ride up to a meadow to talk in the peace and quiet.

There were times when Arthur would spend days away from the camp just to be alone with nature. It was peaceful and void of any nonsense, mostly people talking at him, making him feel stupid etc. Susan would tear him a new asshole if she saw him away from camp on his own at the current time. There weren't many people he would have with him. At the moment, he wouldn't even want Sean or Lenny to accompany him. Despite his sarcasm aimed at the Irishman, Arthur didn't actually mind his company however at the precise moment there was only one person he could stand to have with him and that was Charles. 

He didn't quite know what his feelings were of the man but he felt the same butterflies as he once did for Mary Linton. He didn't get it. When did these feelings start? How did they start? It seemed like they just came out of nowhere but just how was he supposed to show these feelings? And, most importantly, did Charles feel the same way? 

"Was there anywhere in particular you wanted to ride to?" Charles asked as he rode on Taima's back. 

Arthur nodded and pointed over the hill, "There's a meadow just over there. It's quiet, I don't think we'll be ambushed." 

"I suppose you were getting bored in camp?" 

"No, nothing like that, I just needed to get away from the damn nagging." 

Charles had noticed that Susan and the other girls had been pestering Arthur nearly every minute of the day, asking if he was okay, asking what he needed. It had been a few weeks since Arthur came back from the O'Driscolls after all. 

The pair of them reached the meadow in a mere amount of minutes and Charles had to admit that it was a nice spot, would have been good to camp there except there was nothing hiding them from sight. The meadow was covered in purple flowers, varying in shade. The grass was a luscious shade of green and Charles had to chuckle when he saw how Arthur didn't hesitate to lie down against the ground, leaving the horse to feed on the grass. Charles patted Taima's head and joined Arthur on the ground, sitting though instead of lying down. 

Arthur let out a hearty sigh, "Thanks for tagging along." 

"You're welcome." 

Arthur closed his eyes for a moment, just bathing in the sun, letting the wind curl through his hair that needed trimming, it was almost reaching his shoulders now. 

Charles looked over to look at Arthur. As he studied his face, he noted how smooth his skin was, that there was a scar on his chin, and that his now open eyes had a beautiful colour to them. Beautiful? Did he just call Arthur Morgan, The Arthur Morgan... "beautiful"? Yeah, he supposed he did and he couldn't exactly take it away. Charles knew that the girls in the camp would say that Arthur was good looking and underneath it all he had a soft heart. Mary-Beth in particular was close to Arthur but more like a sibling relationship. 

"The world really is a beautiful place when you think about it." Arthur sat himself back up and folded his hands over his knees, "I've seen every inch of this country and still find things that are mesmerizing." 

"I know what you mean." Charles smiled, it was a nice, warm smile. 

"Hey, erm, I-" Arthur shook his head, struggling to find the words. "You know, I've been thinking a lot lately, about me and... well, us." 

"Us?" 

"Yeah, erm-"

Charles could see that Arthur was worried about something. What it was, he couldn't quite put his finger on. He didn't need to say anything, his eyes told Arthur all he needed to know. They sat in silence for a moment, just looking into each other's eyes. Blue eyes at brown. Well, Charles thought, Arthur's eyes weren't exactly blue. They were more like the colour of water in a pond when the light hit the water in a certain way. Blue and green. However, when Charles edged a little closer to Arthur it's when the scent hit him. Arthur... was different. 

"You smell different, Arthur?" 

"Sorry?" Arthur asked, confused. 

Charles went even closer and took a deep sniff with his nose. 

"Hey! What the hell, Charles?!" 

"Just hear me out, for a second." 

"What's going on?" Arthur demanded. "Why you doing that?" 

"Arthur," Charles looked at him, now very seriously, "Is something different with you? Have you felt anything strange?" 

"I don't understand." 

Charles would have opened his mouth to say something else but Arthur paled and his eyes widened as he came to a startling surprise. 

"Hey, Arthur, you still there?" 

"I- I'm just a little dizzy is all." Arthur's hands shook as he clambered to his feet. 

"Arthur? Arthur!"

It wasn't as though Arthur was purposefully ignoring Charles, his head was ringing and he felt himself tremble as the light around him faded and before he completely fell to darkness, he collapsed to his knees and then into the ground. 

"Arthur!" Charles exclaimed as he dropped to his knees beside the unconscious man, "I'd better get you back to camp." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no! Poor Arthur :(


	8. Reminiscing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles takes Arthur back to camp and Hosea and Dutch talk to Arthur.

Charles had lifted Arthur into his arms and had rode back to camp. He was prepared to get chewed out by Susan however Dutch was the one who was waiting with his arms folded by the hitch. 

Dutch looked up but the look of anger vanished when he saw Arthur's pale face. 

"What happened?" He asked Charles. 

Charles shook his head with a frown on his face, "I wish I could say. He said he was dizzy and passed out."

"Take him back to his tent," he told him, "I'll get Miss Grimshaw and Reverend Swanson."

Arthur wasn't a small man by any count but in Charles' arms, he looked feeble and withered. Charles had come to known Arthur over the many months he had been a member of the gang but there was still so much about him that he didn't know. He knew that he had been with Dutch and Hosea for twenty years or more. He carefully placed him down on his cot in Arthur's tent and backed away. Images of the prior weeks came into his mind. 

He jumped at the hand on his shoulder. 

"Sorry, son, just me." Hosea chuckled. "What happened to Arthur?" 

Charles told Hosea what he had told Dutch and he was surprised when Hosea smiled. Charles raised and eyebrow in the hope of the old man explaining the meaning behind the happy expression. Hosea put his hand on the young man's shoulder and lead him away from Arthur's tent so that Susan and Swanson could see what was wrong with him. 

"I know that you already know, son." Hosea sat down on a rock beside the tree overlooking the lake at Clemens Point. "Don't worry, Dutch and I came to the same conclusion. Sadie too, I reckon."

"Huh." 

Hosea looked out into the horizon as Charles took a seat beside him. Hosea was much older now than when he first started this life and he had seen all manner of folk come and go. It was unusual for people to reach the age he was when you lead a life like this. Despite the immense amount of darkness that they had been plagued with, there were moments when things were fine... almost perfect. 

_"How is he?"_

_Whilst everyone else was around the campfire, anxiously awaiting for any news, good or, bad, Dutch was talking to Hosea in the far corner of the camp. Outside of Arthur's tent, Dutch had been pacing around. No one was calm. They hadn't been for several hours._

_Dutch turned to Hosea, who had been trying to keep morale up with the others, and shook his head, "Nothing yet."_

_"Poor boy." Hosea sighed, "He's been going at it for hours."_

_It wasn't easy to ignore the noise coming from Arthur's tent, Dutch had gone inside once to check up on things but he would not be able to get the sight out of his head for ages. There was a lot of blood and Arthur was so pale. He had seen him like that before after a gunfight gone wrong._

_Then, finally after so much time, it was over._

_Miss Grimshaw came out of the tent with a smile on her face. Everyone stopped talking and their heads shot up to Miss Grimshaw._

_"Well?"_

_"You can go and see him now, Dutch, Hosea." She told them, wiping the mess up from her hands with a cloth, "Be careful mind, he's tired."_

_"After you," Hosea lifted the tent flap for him and followed him inside to see Arthur sitting up with some pillows behind him with a bundle in his arms, stroking the cheeks of a chubby, little baby._

_"Oh, Arthur," Hosea beamed with pride._

_Arthur, although exhausted, smiled brighter than he had done in a long time and he looked down at his baby and saw that he was fast asleep. Dutch chuckled and squeezed Arthur's shoulder._

_"You did good, Arthur." Dutch stroked the baby's head, "Boy or a girl?"_

_"Boy." Arthur informed them, "Do you wanna hold him?"_

_"Can I show him around?"_

_Hesitantly, Arthur nodded, yawning as he did so. "Just be careful with him."_

_"Why don't you tell the others the news first?" Hosea suggested, noticing that Arthur wasn't quite ready to let him go yet._

_"And that I shall!" Dutch clapped his hands together and burst back out of the tent, Hosea meanwhile sat down on the edge of the cot, stroking Arthur's son's head.  
"You got a name for him?" _

_"Hmm, I think Eliza said something like Matthew or something. I'm liking Isaac though."_

_"Isaac huh?" Hosea nodded in approval, "I like it. Isaac Morgan."_

_"I think he'll be safer with Eliza." Arthur with an ounce of sadness, "It's not safe for a baby here."_

_"If you want to stay with Eliza and the baby for a while, Arthur, you can do." Hosea said sympathetically, "I ain't gonna judge you and I'm sure Dutch will understand."_

_"I suppose." Arthur grew quiet and tightened his hold around Isaac, not wanting to let him go. He could hear cheering going on outside the tent and the sound of a guitar playing with the gang singing a merry song. He almost felt guilty about his decision but ultimately it was the right thing to do._

"He's what?" Dutch and Hosea gasped in unison at Miss Grimshaw. 

"Those damned bastards," She seethed. Susan was enraged, what happened was despicable but it was nothing compared to how she told Arthur. 

"You told him?" Hosea asked. Susan didn't reply but he could tell by the way her eyes flickered that she had done. He sighed, putting his hand to his head. 

"I'll go talk to him," Dutch went to go to Arthur's tent but Susan put her hand up to stop him. 

"I don't think that's wise, Dutch." She said quietly, "I think he wants to be alone for a moment."

It wasn't like last time. The first time. When Arthur was pregnant with Isaac, it was joyous news. Eliza, Isaac's mother, offered to join the gang but Arthur refused and told her it was dangerous. Despite that, she helped when she could and she took Arthur and Isaac into her home with loving hands. It was her aunt's home but she passed away leaving everything to her niece. It couldn't have happened at a better time, all things considered. It wasn't like Eliza wanted her aunt to drop dead but she was a nasty piece of work and only seemed to have an inch of kindness for Eliza and even then it wasn't exactly a wheelbarrow full. 

"Let's not say anything to anyone at the moment." Hosea told the other two senior members. "If Arthur wants people to know, he can do so on his own accord."

"You're right." Dutch agreed. "We can talk to him tomorrow. Or later. Only if he wants to, of course." 

"Of course." 

An eerie silence filled the camp the next morning, the sun looked dimmer and the grass was less green. Everyone got on with work around the camp, barely chatting and moving slower than usual. 

The majority of the gang had no idea what had occurred but they didnt have to be told to leave Arthur to himself. 

Unfortunately, Arthur was more of a secondary priority because Lenny and Sean had come with news. 

"So Micah is gonna be hanged?" Hosea shrugged. "Looks like we've dodged a bullet on this one."

Bill, who had been listening, stepped in. "What? We're just gonna let him die?"

"You say that like he'd come and save our asses, Bill?" Sean tilted his head. "I think that, in Micah's own words, "people die. Move on"".

Dutch was in a conundrum. Even he had to admit that he wouldn't exactly miss him. Micah was the whole reason that they were all on the run from the law but Dutch also had to take some responsibility. "Right, Lenny and Sean, go to the hanging. When it happens, come back and tell us."

Sean and Lenny nodded.

"We are on it." Lenny put his thumbs up. 

Dutch nodded, he shooed everyone else away to carry on doing work around the camp. Hosea stayed beside him however and looked over to Arthur. 

"He still asleep?"

Hosea shook his head and just as he did so, Arthur stood up from his cot, rubbing his eyes. 

"Let's go and take him fishing or something." Hosea suggested. "It was helped him relax."

"Good idea." Dutch nodded. "I'll grab him. You get the rods."


	9. On the Waterbed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dutch and Hosea take Arthur fishing and give him a heart-to-heart.

With Lenny and Sean riding their horse away from the camp on one side, Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur were rowing out onto the way in the other direction. Arthur couldn't remember the last time he had gone fishing. With everything that had been going on, he hadn't really thought about it. That and his rod had snapped in two and he hadn't bothered to get another one. Lucky for him that Hosea had brought three rods with him onto the boat. 

There had been some arguing over who was going to row the boat but inevitably, Arthur was the one in the middle with Dutch in the front of the boat and Hosea taking up the rear. 

"It's a mighty fine day, wouldn't you agree fellers?" Hosea chuckled. 

The morning did start a little rough but the sun was beginning to shine brighter the higher it was in the sky. There was the odd cloud in the sky but they weren't grey, they were fluffy and white. 

"Right, here's a good stop." 

In Arthur's life he hadn't met many people who had changed it, for better or for worse, yet despite the rough patches in this life he can honestly say that he was glad when he was found on the street. He had seen so much in his life. He remembered more bad than good. He couldn't remember his mother but he could still see the blood from his daddy's body. 

"Hey, Arthur?" Dutch nudged him, "Son, what's wrong?" 

"Oh, nothing." Arthur brushed it under the rug. "Nothing at all." 

Except for everything. Everything was wrong. Nothing was right. Just lately, everything seemed to be going from bad to worse and Arthur didn't understand why. A baby? Another one? He wasn't as young as he was with Isaac. Constantly, the men around the camp called him "old man". He was in his thirties. It was usually the ones _older_ than him that call him "old". He may be old but he can still handle a gun, probably better than when he was young. Point is, he wasn't ready to have another child. Especially with what happened to Isaac. Oh, Isaac and Eliza. They didn't deserve what happened to them. He still thinks about what might have happened if he was there. Except he wasn't. And now they're dead in graves. 

Arthur didn't ask for much in life. He really didn't. He was kind of glad that Hosea and Dutch asked him to go fishing. He was never any good at fishing but he was getting better at it. He enjoyed that time he took young Jack while they were all still at Horseshoe Overlook. He quite liked it back there. It was far better than Colter but it didn't have the big lake Clemens Point had. Sure there was a stream but it wasn't like you could go rowing on it. 

They fished for a little while together then Dutch suggested that they head back to camp but not before singing a few shanties on the water. Arthur forgot himself for a moment and everything that occurred the day before and during the early morning, for a moment he was content. 

"Ah, fine catch, boys." Dutch clapped his hands together as Arthur rowed to the shoreline, he docked at the jetty. Dutch climbed out and othered a hand to Arthur to help him out of the boat. "Here, my boy." 

"Thanks, Dutch." 

Hosea looked to Dutch, nodding at him to talk with Arthur. Dutch gave him a silent look of agreement and put his arm around Arthur's shoulder. 

"Can I have a word with you, son?" 

"Sure." 

Hosea carried the fish in his arms over to Pearson whilst Arthur and Dutch walked in the opposite direction to the end of the jetty where the sun was coming closer to the bottom of the sky. 

Dutch never found it too difficult to articulate his thoughts into words but for some reason, he couldn't quite fathom, he was finding it hard to find the right words for Arthur. The pair of them stood there in silence for a while but it was Arthur who said the first word.

"Erm, Dutch, I have- I have to tell you something." 

Dutch hummed then said, "I know you do." 

"You do?" 

"Huh huh." Dutch sighed, "Nothing happens in this camp without me knowing about it, I thought you'd figure that by now." 

Arthur felt at ease when he heard the soft laugh escape Dutch's lips. "I know I can tell you anything, Dutch, it's just that I- I'm worried." 

"I know about the baby, Arthur, and I want you to know that no matter what you choose, me and Hosea, hell everyone here, we're here for you." 

Dutch studied the younger man's face for several moments as Arthur closed his eyes, a single tear slipped through his eyelid and slithered down his cheek, leaving a silvery trail behind. 

Over the years, Dutch had only seen Arthur cry only a couple of times and even then Arthur didn't ever tell him why. Dutch would ask but like most teenagers Arthur would deny that he ever cried and hid himself in his tent for a while. It did tale Arthur a while to gain a tent for himself. Dutch didn't ever understand why Hosea didn't want his own tent but when Molly secluded herself with the other women, Hosea would sneak into Dutch's tent. They were an exclusive couple as such, although it was highly bewildering why they weren't, but Arthur knew that they had a "colourful" past. 

Dutch wiped the lone tear away with his thumb and a small smile appeared on his face. Arthur opened his eyes again and laughed under his breath. 

"I'm such a fool." 

"So am I, son," Dutch patted his back, "I've made some mistakes in the past but hey one of those is gonna be rectified." 

"What you talking about?" 

"Micah. He's getting the rope." 

"He is?" Arthur felt himself smile, "Well, then, I think I'm a little happier." 

"Let's head back into camp, Lenny and Sean should be back now." 


	10. Not Gone According to Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sean and Lenny return with worrying news.

Arthur followed Dutch back into camp and his head lifted up at the sound of the gang shouting over each other in states of anger and panic. Dutch tried to find order amongst all the chaos but when no one was responding he fired his gun upwards. That silenced everyone pretty quickly. 

"Thank you." Dutch slammed his gun back inside its holster, "Now, someone tell me what is going on? Sean, Lenny, tell us about the-"

"Hangin'" Sean cut him off, he shrugged his shoulders, "Ah, would love to boss, only there wasn't one." 

"What in the name of God are you jabberin' on about, Sean?" Hosea found his place by Dutch's side.

"He's right," Lenny seconded Sean, "we got there, everyone was crowding around. Micah was ushered onto the platform and before they could pull the lever-"

"Feckin' O'Driscolls shot the place up."

Arthur felt something hit the pit of his stomach and he absently stepped back from the group. Sean continued his story. 

"Idiots was firin' on allsorts and bloody Pinkertons showed up too." 

"What?" Dutch shook Sean by his collars, "Were you two followed?" 

Sean gulped, "No, Dutch, everyone was so busy shootin' and shoutin' that no one even noticed we was there." 

"Good, good." Dutch let him go. "At least the Pinkertons aren't on our tail." 

"Micah got away though." Lenny reminded Sean. He turned towards Dutch. "I don't think he was _with_ them though." 

"What do you mean, Lenny?" Hosea asked the young man. 

"Well, they didn't seem to thrilled to save him. I reckon Colm O'Driscoll staged it so he could nab him for some reason or other." 

"Well," Dutch stepped onto the log by the campfire so that he could see everyone in the gang, "That's one thing we don't need. Unwanted attention. Especially now." 

"What you on about?" It was Uncle, he was sitting down unlike everyone else, obviously with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. "We never need the attention." 

"Of course not, you fool." Bill shushed Uncle up with a bonk on the head. "Continue Dutch." 

"Thank you, Bill." Dutch shook his head, he turned towards Arthur behind him and smiled at him. It was in reassurance and for permission to tell the gang the news that Arthur hope wasn't true. Arthur figured though that if it was Dutch saying it and not him, people would be more accepting of it. It wasn't like he asked for this to happen. 

"It seems that we will be having a new addition to the gang, everyone." 

Arthur looked over to Susan who had a look of sympathy and pride on her face. Despite her sometimes cold demeanor, she really did care for everyone - mostly everyone - in the gang. 

"What you talkin' about, Dutch?" John asked from where he was standing with Jack and Abigail. 

"Arthur's having a baby, everyone." 

The way that everyone reacted really did surprise Arthur, he was half expecting the majority to be shouting but instead they cheered and clapped at him. 

"Well, isn't this a reason to be celebratin'!?" Uncle cheered to them, raising his bottle and not hesitating to glug down the brown liquid. 

"I didn't think you required a reason to drink, Uncle." Javier smirked, strumming away on his guitar. 

And celebrate, everyone did. Arthur was still stood to the side and he was shocked but not surprised that Mary-Beth, Karen and Tilly swarmed around him. 

"Oh, Arthur!" Mary-Beth giggled. "A baby! How exciting!" 

"Thank you, Mary-Beth." 

"How far along are you, Arthur?" Asked Tilly. 

Arthur would have said "why, I don't know," but Karen cut him off with her own question.   
"When's the baby due?" 

"Stop pestering him," Susan shouted over to the girls, Arthur could see her brush the dirt off her dress and she sauntered over to them, shaking her head at the girls. "Go and make yourselves useful." 

"They weren't bothering me, Susan." Her told her, he knew that Susan practically ran things around camp but he didn't always enjoy her bossing the young girls around. They didn't defend themselves like Sadie, Abigail and Molly. 

Sadie did help around camp but she didn't appreciate being yelled at. Abigail also did her own fair share but she also had to look after Jack, which wasn't always so easy as everyone thought it was. He was a young boy, always exploring and scampering off. Then there was Molly who kind of did her own thing, which usually included looking at her pocket mirror like a magpie. Still, he didn't get on at them and they didn't get on at him. Not that they would anyway. 

Arthur gave a small wave at them as Mary-Beth, Tilly and Karen went off in the opposite direction. Susan tutted at them as she passed them by, making her way over to him. 

"Now, I'm sure Dutch has told you that you're staying put here." 

"No, he hasn't." Arthur informed her, still being polite about it. 

"Oh?" Susan didn't need Dutch to tell him, she was more than happy to tell Arthur herself. "Well, last time you didn't have the luxury of letting everyone else crack on, now you can. I don't want you leaving this camp without someone, or telling either me, Dutch or Hosea first. I also don't want you lifting heavy objects." 

"Hold on," Arthur would have laughed but this wasn't the person who laugh at, "You didn't do any of this with me when I had Isaac." 

"Yeah, I couldn't." Susan was right. When Arthur was first pregnant, he still had to help out as usual. There wasn't enough people to do all of his work either. Now, there were loads of them. "You're also not as young as you used to be, Arthur, I don't need to remind you about that." 

"Anything else?" 

Susan raised an eyebrow at his sarcasm. "I am only doing this because I care."

"I know, Susan, I know. I- I can look after myself." 

"Well, that's the thing, son, it isn't just you that you need to watch. Is it?" 

"No, ma'am." 

"Good, now Pearson will make sure you get first innings of the stew." 

Lucky him. 

"Just relax, alright," Susan put a hand on his face, there was an expression on her face that Arthur wasn't all too familiar with. Susan was the kind of woman that would show more negative emotions than positive. Was it pride on her face? Something else? Meh, Arthur just smiled and let her do it before she patted his cheek and walked away back over to the source of all the noise. 

Honestly, the way that everyone was reacting wasn't all what Arthur expected. Even the first time, everyone was slightly skeptical. Now, it just seemed like Arthur's news was like a ray of sunshine in the midst of a storm. 

"Psst!" 

Arthur furrowed his eyebrows together as he turned his head to the back of the camp, the lakeside, but smirked as he saw Charles beside a tree, whispering for him to go over to him. Arthur was more than happy to oblige. 

"I suppose congratulations are in order?" 

"Something's telling me that you already knew." 

Charles shrugged playfully, "Some things are better left unsaid, ha, well, I wasn't expecting all this." 

"Me neither." Arthur scratched the back of his neck, "I was just thinkin'." 

"Yeah?" 

"What do you think would have happened in that meadow if I didn't, ya know, pass out?" 

Charles had been thinking the same thing since he had brought Arthur back on Taima. In fact, it was the only think he had been thinking about. Charles wasn't the kind of man that wasn't with his emotions but sometimes he let his emotions get the better of him. Only, this time, he couldn't think of the right words to say, or any words for that matter. 

Turns out though, he didn't need any words because as Charles found himself lost in his mind, Arthur slowly back him against the tree and cupped the back of his neck, putting his lips against Charles'. Charles eyes snapped open for a moment before he succumbed to the sensation and he put his arms around Arthur's waist. 

Arthur let go and backed away, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

Charles didn't let him finish, he grabbed him gently and pulled him back, holding him against his broad chest. 

Arthur smirked as he closed his eyes once more to let his soul fill up with such powerful energy. The breeze circled around them, Charles' long locks blew through the wind, ripples appeared on the lake and the sound of music and singing was the only thing to be heard for miles around. 

Unbeknownst to Arthur and Charles however, Dutch and Hosea were smoking beside another tree, watching the scene take place. 

"Well, looks like I owe you 20 dollars." Dutch chuckled. 

"I thought it would have happened sooner, to be honest." Hosea chuckled as he shoved the money into the pocket of his waistcoat, "Still, it's nice to see." 

"At least it's one problem out of the way."

"How do you mean?" 

"Micah." 

It may have just been a name but Hosea had a grave look on his face at the sound of it. Hearing Micah's name was like choking on smoke, disgusting. It was a problem but one they may have to deal with later. Like Dutch said before, they didn't need any attention for the baby's sake. It was easier the first time round. Arthur was young enough to still help around. Arthur wasn't exactly a young man. Not as old as Dutch and Hosea but still old enough to be called "old man" by the young ones of the gang. 

Anyway, that was something to think about tomorrow.


	11. Brothers in Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John accompanies Arthur on a ride out.

It was strange to say that not everyone was aware of the age difference between Arthur and John. Some would assume just a couple of years when it was really more like a decade. Arthur was in his twenties when he saw Dutch save 12-year-old John from being hanged. It did take them a while to warm up to each other but over the years they became friends then became as close as brothers. In fact, that was what they called each other... eventually. 

Almost 3 months had passed since Dutch had announced to the gang that Arthur was expecting and everyone had been treating Arthur far more differently that he was anticipating. Well, almost everyone. Micah hadn't been seen since he escaped his own hanging and no one knew if he was with the O'Driscolls, on his own, or even with another gang entirely and as much as everyone wanted to find him they couldn't risk Pinkertons invading the camp with Arthur in his current condition. 

Arthur wasn't expecting all the rules either. 

He wasn't allowed to leave the camp on his own. 

If he wanted to go into town he either had to take someone with him or had to tell someone what he wanted and they could go for them. 

He had to have first serving of the stew. 

And a few others that Arthur may have forgotten already but would no doubt be reminded about it constantly. 

Arthur wouldn't have minded all the rules if he hadn't been pregnant before and had helped the camp out last time. He even went on heists during his first trimester. He just didn't completely understand what the fuss was all about. Well, he understood a bit but he wasn't an invalid. Just the other morning when he was changing his shirt, Mary-Beth had noticed that he was already showing. She wasn't exactly subtle about it either. 

_Arthur was sitting with his back against a tree, sketching in his notebook when he heard a chuckle from behind him. He didn't have to turn his head to know that it was Hosea._

_"She didn't mean to startle the whole camp, ya know."_

_Arthur grunted, he knew._

_"It's been a while since we had a baby in the camp." Hosea sighed. Obviously Jack was only young but five years was a long time when you didn't stay in a place for too long._

_"We don't do all this bothering to annoy you."_

_"I know that."_

_Hosea sat down beside Arthur, Arthur sighed and closed his book. He had noticed how quiet it was in camp today, most of the men had gone on a hunting trip for Pearson. The ladies, Jack, Uncle, Pearson and Hosea had stayed behind._

_"I noticed Charles wasn't too eager to go," Hosea smirked at Arthur as the younger man blushed. "He definitely likes you, that's all I'm saying on the matter, son."_

There wasn't many people that Arthur would ask to accompany him to town but Charles was busy so he had to ask John instead. 

There was an eerie silence in the air as Arthur and John left the camp that morning. It was still early enough to see dew drops on the blades of grass in the meadows the horses trotted by. 

"How you feelin'?" John asked as they rode. 

Arthur shrugged, "Nauseous. You should do this for Abigail when you want another kid." 

It wasn't like John was purposefully a bad father, he wasn't like Arthur when it came to children. He got scared and ran off for all those months when Jack was born. He regretted it ever since and it tore him up when Arthur ignored him for so long, when he did talk to him it was to rant at him. Fair enough, he deserved it after all. It was only really after Colter when Arthur finally talked to him properly again. He was grateful for that. 

"I don't actually need anything from the town." Arthur finally said. "I just needed to go for a ride and since I can't go alone-"

"And Charles is hunting." 

"Yes. And Charles is hunting." 

John didn't really mind not being Arthur's first choice. No one in camp had said anything but the majority had noticed that Charles and Arthur were spending a lot of time together. A _lot_ of time together. He wouldn't ever confess it out loud to Arthur but he thought it was sweet how much Charles doted on the man. Abigail failed to keep her thoughts to herself on the matter but he had to agree that Arthur and Charles were quite the pair. He had seen Arthur with a broken heart, he just hoped he wouldn't have to see that again. 

"I don't mind just riding to nowhere with you." 

"Thanks, John." 

John saw the small smile on Arthur's face. "How far long are you anyway?" 

"Susan reckons about 12 weeks or so." 

"If you don't mind me asking, Arthur, but what are you planning on doing with it?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"You know what I mean." 

Arthur did know what John meant. No one liked to remind Arthur about Isaac but would Arthur keep the baby with him in the camp? 

"I suppose I'll find somewhere... maybe." 

"Leave?" 

"If it comes to that." Arthur shook his head, "I don't want to leave but if I have to I will." 

"I understand Arthur." 

Arthur nodded his head and took his hat off of his head, stuffing it carefully into the satchel on his horse's back. 

"Right, 10 more minutes riding then we turn back before Hosea and Dutch realize that we haven't gone to the town." 

Arthur didn't fancy having his ear torn off again. 


	12. Butterfly Wings

Night had fallen over the camp and the only light was the campfire and the stray lanterns that had been scattered around. Whilst the majority of the camp was gathered around the fire, eating the stew prepared by Pearson, chatting amongst themselves, Dutch was leaning against the bark of a tree with a lit cigar in his mouth. He kept switching his gaze between the gang and Arthur who was sleeping in his cot in his tent. They, Hosea and Dutch, had offered to cover the tent up to give him some extra privacy. Arthur turned that down though, he never liked resources being wasted on him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Dutch could see Charles approach him. 

"Charles." 

"Dutch." 

Dutch liked Charles, he really did. The young man had earned his place among them and was truly a member of the Van der Linde gang. Dutch had also noticed the way that Charles and Arthur had been growing closer as of late. If Arthur wasn't already expecting, he wouldn't have been surprised if he had gotten pregnant from Charles, especially since they ran off into the meadow the other day. He wasn't blind. An idiot? Yes, sometimes, but he was not blind. 

Dutch had essentially locked the camp down except for a few of them if they needed supplies. With Micah missing, and possibly with enemies, he couldn't risk Arthur getting hurt. Obviously he didn't want anyone to get hurt but Arthur would be a bigger and slower target in a few months, possibly even weeks. He remember when Arthur was pregnant the first time. Sure, he didn't get as big as Abigail did with Jack but Arthur was a big man. Hadn't always been mind, Dutch could remember a teenage Arthur, a scrawny boy on the streets. 

"Can I ask you something, Charles?" Dutch broke the silence, "Ask something of you to do for me?" 

"Sure, Dutch." 

Dutch smirked, "I couldn't help but notice that you and Arthur were... close." 

Dutch couldn't ignore the way Charles' cheeks went red. 

"I want you to keep an eye on him." 

"Well, I was doing that anyway, sir. You know what Arthur's like." 

"I do." Dutch nodded his head, "Arthur isn't as young as he was. Yes, he's not old like Hosea and me but he's not a young man. I need someone to keep him safe when I can't."

"I promise I will." 

"I knew I could count on you, boy." 

For a while, as the others slept, Dutch reminisced about the old days of the gang to Charles, telling him stories that he had not been told yet. What they didn't notice was that Arthur was looking over in their direction with a smile on his face. Not the kind that took up your whole head, a subtle one. One that radiated warmth and bliss. Arthur couldn't help but feel at peace. It was temporary, he knew that something would occur soon. It always did. Yet, for the short moment, he reveled in the quiet. He put a hand to his stomach, there was a small swell, not too noticeable. You could only really see anything if you looked really hard or if Arthur showed himself off. He wasn't that kind of person though. 

At 16 weeks, Arthur could safely say that he was bored. 

He couldn't remember the last time when he found himself doing nothing. He certainly didn't remember his first pregnancy being this boring, then again he was still allowed to help out. Now, he couldn't even get his own food without someone doing it for him. He didn't like not helping. Ever since he was a child, he had helped. He enjoyed it. It was less boring than doing nothing. 

The sun boiled in the sky but Arthur wasn't warm, he felt a gentle breeze brushing through his hair. He was sitting against a tree with his notebook in hand. He was drawing the scene in front of him. He probably had more pictures of the camp than anything else. There wasn't much else to draw than what he had already drawn. He was really bored. He was bored of saying he was bored. 

"Mind if I join you?" 

Arthur looked up and a smile instantly formed on his face at the sight of Charles standing before him. 

"Go ahead," Arthur gestured to the spot beside him. 

Charles took a quick glance at the picture Arthur was drawing. "I don't think I could ever draw as well as you, Arthur." 

"It's all about shading... and perspective I guess." 

"It's nice here." Charles looked out into the horizon, "Not what I pictured life as an outlaw but I can't complain." 

"I've spent so long on the road with this gang that I don't think I could see it any other way." 

Charles couldn't really tell Arthur was carrying a child, I think that if no one knew, Arthur would have gotten away with hiding it for awhile longer but he supposed that someone would have noticed sooner or later. 

He had an inkling the moment he noticed Arthur smelled differently. It wasn't obvious but Charles had spent many hours of the day wondering what Arthur was like, well, he knew what he was like, he couldn't find the right words to describe his feelings. 

Arthur placed his notebook in his satchel then leaned back, placing his head on Charles shoulder, Charles hesitantly put his arm around Arthur's shoulder. 

"This is nice." 

"Indeed." Charles hummed in agreement. 

They were content for a moment until Arthur suddenly grabbed Charles' hand. 

"Arthur? What's wrong?" 

Arthur didn't say anything at first but then he gasped lightly, "Can you feel that?" 

Charles concentrated for a moment, "I don't feel anything." 

"I felt it, like a fluttery feeling. You didn't feel it?" 

Charles shook his head but he retained the smile, "Maybe it's early yet." 

"That's true," Arthur chuckled, "it felt like a butterfly though." 


End file.
